


Cookies and Conversation

by jooliewrites



Series: Season 2 Coliver Codas [11]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Coda, Episode Related, Episode: s02e11 She Hates Us, Friendship, M/M, Oliver/Asher Are Friends, Talking, episode coda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-24 00:48:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6135709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jooliewrites/pseuds/jooliewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey! Oliver!” Asher whispered as he threw off his blanket and followed Oliver into the kitchen. “Look, man, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”</p><p>Oliver frowned as he poured a glass of water and flicked on the light under the microwave to give them some light. “Sorry for what?”</p><p>“For…well, you know.” Asher rubbed a hand over the back of his neck while he wondered how to phrase it. “Just–just staying here so much,” he settled on. “I mean, I heard you guys earlier. You know, you, Michaela, Walsh. You three getting your mean girls on.”</p><p>Oliver closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”</p><p>“Yeah but you still meant it, didn’t you?” </p><p>+</p><p>Oliver and Asher find themselves up late after 2x11 and have a conversation a few weeks overdue.<br/>A Colisher 2x11 Coda</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cookies and Conversation

**Author's Note:**

> [originally posted](http://ramblesandreblogs.tumblr.com/post/139763124128/a-coliver-colisher-2x11-codalittle-over-34k-and)

He was dreaming in code again.

Oliver inwardly groaned when he reluctantly opened his eyes to a very dark apartment. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to ignore the lines of code that danced behind his eyelids. He had been dreaming of work again. He had been dreaming of code and work and managed to wake himself up in the middle of the night with a headache. Wonderful.

Wondering if it was even worth trying to catch a few more minutes of sleep or if he should just call it a wash and start his day a little early, Oliver fumbled for his phone on the bedside table. He squinted to read the screen and let out an actual, audible groan when the numbers snapped into focus.

2:14.

He’d barely slept at all and now he was up and awake and there were still hours to go before his day really needed to begin. Life was so beautiful sometimes.

At his side, Connor slept on, burrowed in close and hugging one of Oliver’s arms to his chest. His breath, slow and deep, tickled as it brushed Oliver’s side and Oliver smiled as he watched his boyfriend sleep on.

Connor looked so young like this, carefree and peaceful. Not the overstressed, over-caffeinated version of Connor Oliver was used to. Connor’s nose scrunched in sleep and he rubbed it against Oliver’s arm before tucking his face in closer, so close that Oliver could feel the flutter of Connor’s eyelashes against his arm.

Wholly and completely content, Oliver watched Connor dream in the moonlight before restlessness – and a full bladder – came calling.

Slipping on his glasses, Oliver tried to be gentle and slow as he eased his arm out of Connor’s hold and slipped out from beneath the covers but Connor frowned anyway and tried to cling.

“Shhh.” Oliver pressed a kiss to Connor’s forehead when Connor let out a small whine of frustration and tucked the covers back around his still sleeping boyfriend. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered into the dark and smiled again when Connor pulled Oliver’s own pillow close to hug.

After stopping in the bathroom, Oliver headed into the kitchen with a thought to grab some water, maybe something to eat, when he saw the faint light from a phone screen out of the corner of his eye. For half a beat Oliver’s heart stopped and he jumped, startled – someone was in their apartment! – before remembering. Asher.

“Hey, man,” Asher whispered in the dark. “Oh shit, sorry!” He tucked the phone away, turning the screen down so the faint light disappeared, and tugged one earbud out of his ear. “Thought the screen was low enough. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

More unnerved by the late night scare than he liked, Oliver rubbed a hand over his chest to quell his frantically beating heart and tried to catch his breath.

“What are you doing?” he hissed, probably stupidly but it was the middle of the night. Oliver figured he could be forgiven for not having all his faculties at the ready.

“Netflix.” Asher popped out the other earbud and sat up. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Oliver nodded, he could certainly relate to that tonight, and continued on into the kitchen. He’d grab his water, maybe throw Asher another nod as he walked back through the living room, and crawl back into bed. Maybe Oliver could count sheep or something to help kill the time.

“Hey! Oliver!” Asher whispered as he threw off his blanket. Padding softly on the hardwood, Asher followed Oliver into the kitchen. “Look, man, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Oliver frowned as he poured a glass of water and flicked on the light under the microwave to give them some light. Apparently they were going to have a A Conversation. Fantastic. “Sorry for what?”

“For…well, you know.” Asher rubbed a hand over the back of his neck while he wondered how to phrase it. “Just–just staying here so much,” he settled on. “I mean, I heard you guys earlier. You know, you, Michaela, Walsh. You three getting your mean girls on.”

Oliver closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“Yeah but you still meant it, didn’t you?” Asher almost smiled as he caught Oliver’s eye, nervous and embarrassed and almost wishing for Oliver to deny it.

Oliver’s gaze didn’t waver and he didn’t offer a response or defense. He hadn’t meant for Asher to hear and certainly wouldn’t have said anything so blunt if he’d known Asher was in earshot – Oliver had been careful to keep his complaints for Connor’s (and Michaela’s) ears only – but that didn’t mean he’d misspoken. Knowing that Asher had overheard didn’t change Oliver’s opinion on the matter. He didn’t want Asher staying over anymore and he really didn’t understand why Connor kept offering up their couch and making excuses when Asher, inevitably, stuck his foot in his mouth.

Realizing Oliver wasn’t going to offer anything in response, Asher just nodded. “Thought so.”

Oliver took a sip from his water glass and waited for Asher to continue, figuring there had to be more than just that.

“Yeah…well. I am sorry.” Asher looked away from Oliver’s expectant gaze and ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry for staying so long and eating your food and…and for not being as…” Asher lifted his hands for air quotes as he continued, “‘PC’ as I should have been.”

Clucking his tongue, Oliver debated how to respond to that. Did he give Asher a laundry list of the non-politically correct things that he’d said in their home? Did he take a stand with a long-winded lecture that would, in all likelihood, fall on deaf ears? Did he just kick Asher out right now, reason being that piss-poor excuse of an apology? Those options and more ran through Oliver’s head but he didn’t really want to do any of that. This was his home, his and Connor’s, and why did he have to put up with this in his own home?

“Fuck,” Asher breathed out, hearing back what he’d just said. “I just did it again, didn’t I. I’m such an….Jesus…” Asher rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Sorry.” Then, “Again.”

Oliver waited to see if Asher was going to shove his foot any further in it. Then, when Asher stayed silent, Oliver waited just a bit more, until the silence between them was just starting to creep up on uncomfortable, before inquiring, “Can I ask you something?”

Deciding it was safer to just keep his mouth shut, Asher nodded.

“Why are you here?” Asher’s spine stiffened at Oliver’s innocent question so Oliver quickly went on. “I mean, right now. Why are you here?” Oliver waited a moment before continuing on. “You heard us talking, you heard what–what was said about you staying here, and yet, you’re still here. It just doesn’t add up.” Oliver wanted to finish the thought with ‘Why would you stay somewhere you know you’re not entirely welcome?’ but figured that was probably just a bit to blunt for two in the morning.

Asher stalled with, “I…I don’t really know to be honest.” He chuckled at that but it was humorless. “I don’t know why I keep staying here. Why I’m still here.” He picked at one of the placemats on the counter. “I…I think Walsh was right before, when he said I don’t have any friends, between that and my dad and…and Bonnie… I guess imposing on you guys is better than being alone, being at my apartment. I mean, it’s so fucking quiet there, you know? Like, it’s just me and…and I’ve never really been so lonely–alone!” Asher was quick to correct. “Alone,” he repeated. “Not…not lonely.”

Oliver nodded. Asher may be trying to play off his Freudian Slip but Oliver knew what he’d really meant and, against all his better judgement, he felt a twinge of understanding. Already feeling like he was going to regret it, Oliver opened the freezer.

“Connor can never know,” Oliver said in warning over his shoulder.

Even though he couldn’t understand what Oliver was talking about, Asher nodded anyway but frowned when Oliver pulled out a bag of frozen fruit. His frown broke out in a grin when Oliver opened the bag and pulled out a sleeve of cookies.

“Shit, O-man, you’ve been holding out on us.” Asher gleefully took a cookie from the sleeve Oliver offered. “Oh, fuck. Are these Thin Mints!?!”

“You can’t tell Connor.” Oliver held up a finger in warning then bit into his own cookie. “And I better not come home to find all of these eaten.”

Asher crossed a finger over his heart. “Scouts honor.”

They quietly munched on their cookies in the dark before Oliver offered. “I think I get it.”

Asher raised an eyebrow and stole another cookie.

“Get why you don’t want to go home. I get not wanting to be alone. Being lonely.” Oliver swiped a crumb off his lip with a thumb and took a steadying breath. Was he really going to go here at two in the morning with Asher Millstone of all people? “When I first moved in here I hated this place.”

“Why?” Asher asked, legitimately shocked. “You have a fireplace. In your bedroom. I mean, can’t speak for the dudes, but ladies would eat that shit up.”

Despite himself, Oliver snorted. “That’s not what I meant. Although, for the record, dudes eat that shit up too.”

“Noted,” Asher mumbled around a mouthful of cookie.

“I meant, this place was too quiet,” Oliver answered, purposely echoing Asher’s wording. “I wasn’t supposed to move in here alone. We were going to live here together.”

“You and some guy?”

Oliver nodded. “My college boyfriend. We…we were young.” Remembering, Oliver shook his head at his own stupidity. “We’d only been dating a few weeks but we were in love and going to spend forever together in this beautiful apartment with sky-high rent.”

When Oliver trailed off, Asher prompted, “So what happened?”

“We broke up,” is all Oliver gave him. There was more, of course, but that’s not really any of Asher’s business. This right here was about as deep as Oliver plans on getting with Asher Millstone. “He bailed a few days before we were set to move in. I ended up going it alone; moved in all my crap and acted like everything was fine but it wasn’t. I was devastated; I couldn’t be here longer than a few hours. For weeks, I crashed on couches or went back home for a night. Never actually brought anyone here. It felt so fucking empty here with just me. I’d gone from my parents to the dorms to roommates. I’d never really been alone.”

“Nothing quite like being all alone with your thoughts, is there?” Asher tried to joke but it fell flat.

“No,” Oliver agreed. “There’s nothing quite as terrifying as being alone or–” Oliver waited for Asher to glance up. “Or being lonely.”

“How’d you deal?” Asher asked, even though he already suspected what Oliver was going tell him.

“I faced it,” Oliver answers, just like Asher figured he would. “Wasn’t fun but I figured out how to be alone; learned to recognize out the difference between being alone and being lonely. Then, one day, I realized that this was my life and this was my home now and I’d better figure out how to live here.”

Asher broke his last cookie into pieces while he considered what Oliver’d said.

It was helpful, yes, but, to be fair, when Oliver was alone his thoughts probably didn’t drift into homicide. Oliver probably didn’t hear the thud of a person hitting his trunk or feel the jerk of his tires as they ran over something, someone; turning that person, living, breathing, thinking, loving person, into a body in seconds. Oliver’s thoughts probably didn’t echo his father’s last words or hear his mother tell him it was all his fault. Oliver’s loneliness probably wasn’t haunted by demons with blood on their hands.

“I don’t know if I can face it,” Asher whispered, honestly. Not talking about being lonely but about everything else.

“You can,” Oliver insisted. He sounded so confident, so sure of himself, that Asher wished they were only talking about loneliness.

Because he knew Oliver would expect it, Asher just nodded.

The silence that hung between them called to him and Asher could feel the start of a confession rising up. He wondered if telling another person, saying the words out loud for once, would help, would ease the burden. He needed to say the words, the truth needed a voice. Asher’s breath started to quicken, his pulse began to race. He couldn’t actually do it, could he? He needed to say something else, change the course of the conversation, get them away from this dangerous territory. So, Asher did what he’d always done; he deflected with ill-timed humor.

“Jeez,” he let the word drag out a little, giving Oliver a subtle clue about the incoming, and abrupt, change of tone. “If you wanted me to leave so bad, you should have just said so.”

Oliver rolled his eyes but then considered. “Well,” Oliver began with just the hint of a smirk, “I kinda did before.”

“Oh right.” Asher pointed a finger at Oliver but smiled as well. He hoped Oliver couldn’t see how forced it was in the dark. “You did. That’s true.”

“But really,” Oliver continued, more somber than before. “I’m not just saying any of this as someone who kinda wants you off my couch. The longer you wait to deal with it, the harder it is and we can be here if you need.”

“What? We friends now, O-man?” Asher asked.

“Well,” this time it was Oliver’s turn to let the word drag out. “You are my boyfriend’s friend,” he eventually settled on.

“Ouch. Cut to the core,” Asher teased. “Besides, you just want me gone so you can get laid.”

Oliver snorted. “Well…it has been some time.”

“What? You need more than a handy in the shower to get you through the week?”

Oliver paled. Connor had surprised him in the shower yesterday morning and had assured Oliver that Asher was still passed out on the couch. “You heard that!?!”

“Course I heard that.” Asher laughed. “I was hungover not deaf.”

“Oh Jesus.” Mortified, Oliver covered his eyes. “We’re done. This is done.”

“Hey! Don’t blame me. It’s not like you guys were really trying to keep it down.” Asher waited a beat before adding. “If anything, it’s Walsh’s fault. Next time tell him to keep it down.”

Oliver shot Asher a look. “I’m not telling my boyfriend to keep it down in his own home.”

“Fair enough,” Asher conceded with a knowing grin.

Oliver bundled the cookies back up and tucked them back in their hiding spot at the back of freezer but then was a bit unsure of himself. The silence between them felt almost friendly but despite the heart-to-heart Oliver still wasn’t entirely comfortable with Asher crashing on his couch. Even so, he felt they were at least on better terms, a half-step in right direction.

“Well,” Oliver began. “I guess we should–”

“You wanna watch something?” Asher asked. “I mean, I wasn’t tired anyways and now I’m all hyped up on sugar and you were up. So if…if you want to–” He waved a vague hand at the couch.

Asher was trying to keep it casual – ‘No big deal. Feel free to say no’ – but Oliver saw the plea in the simple request. He understood how the loneliness could feel suffocating in the middle of the night; how cold it could feel to huddle in a ball of one when it felt like the rest of the world was cuddling together, sleeping soundly.

“Yeah. Sure,” Oliver agreed. He wasn’t going to be able to sleep anyway, so why not?

Oliver quietly slid the doors to the bedroom closed and Asher waited until they were shut before turning on the TV and quickly turning the volume way down.

“What do you want to watch?” Oliver asked, accepting the remote from Asher’s outstretched hand.

“Anything. Doesn’t matter,” Asher answered as they each settled on their sides of the couch.

Oliver absently flipped through the guide when Asher stopped him with a light hit on his arm.

“Dude! Ancient Aliens marathon!” Asher hissed excitedly.

“What is this?” Oliver asked as he put down the remote and settled back.

“You’ve never seen Ancient Aliens?!?” Asher looked dumbfounded when Oliver shook his head. “Oh my god. It’s the best. Well, to be fair, I’ve never actually watched it sober so it might not be the actual best.”

Oliver frowned at that. “What do you mean you’ve never watched it sober.”

“Sunday afternoons at the house. Frat house,” Asher explained. “We would all gather in the lounge, pass a few bowls around, and watch this shit. Oh! Oh!” Asher stretched across to hit Oliver’s arm again. “That’s my favorite guy. He’s fucking nuts. It’s awesome.”

Skeptically, Oliver turned back to the show. “Okay then.” Watching this was probably better than staring at the ceiling in bed, right?

Half an episode later, Oliver was closer to being convinced that, in this at least, Asher may be onto something.

“Wait! Sky people!” He turned to Asher. “Is he really saying that sky people are responsible for the Pyramids?”

“I know, right? These people are–”

“What hell is going on?!?”

Guiltily, Oliver paused the TV and he and Asher turned to face the sleepy Connor in the doorway to the bedroom.

“Hey, babe,” Oliver weakly said.

“Ol–what is happening?” Connor demanded, grumpy and glaring at Oliver through heavy-lidded eyes. “Why are you out here?”

“Couldn’t sleep and neither could Asher. We thought we’d watch something for a bit.”

Frowning, Connor turned away and disappeared back into the bedroom. Oliver and Asher barely had time to exchange a quick look before Connor reemerged with a blanket from the bed wrapped around his shoulders.

Cocooned in the blanket, Connor padded over and plopped down on the couch between them. Tucking his feet up, he put his head on Oliver’s lap and laid down.

Oliver brushed a hand through Connor’s hair. “Need anything?”

“Pillow,” Connor muttered.

Oliver reached out an expectant hand and Asher handed over a pillow.

Connor frowned as he Oliver tucked it under his head. “You owe us new pillows,” he told Asher.

“No prob, bro.”

“Well. Are we gonna watch the show or just stare at the screen?” Connor bit off.

Oliver resumed the show and leaned down. “Sorry we woke you,” he whispered to Connor, brushing back Connor’s hair and kissing his forehead.

Connor didn’t correct that the TV on so late at night hadn’t been what had woken him. It had been reaching for Oliver and finding the sheets on his side of the bed cool.

Turning to face him, Connor tugged at Oliver’s undershirt and Oliver’s lips were curled in the smile when they captured Connor’s.

“Sitting right, dudes,” Asher said and Connor kicked him, hard, in the hip.

Without another word between, the three of them settled in to watch the rest of the show. Connor was asleep again by the next commercial break and Oliver followed soon after.

As the credits began to roll, Asher stood to lightly shake Oliver’s shoulder.

“Hey, man,” Asher whispered when Oliver blinked at him in confusion. “Why don’t you two go back to bed?”

Looking down at the sleeping Connor curled on his lap, Oliver nodded. He gently, shifted Connor up so he could stand before tugging his boyfriend up. Connor was quick to wrap his arms around Oliver’s waist, tucking into Oliver’s side, and Oliver led them off to bed.

Rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, Asher looked away. The moment seemed to personal, to intimate for him to watch.

Once the pair of them disappeared into the bedroom, Asher turned off the TV and laid back down on the couch. He picked up his phone, popped the earbuds back in, and turned on some music before turning off the phone screen. He still wasn’t tired and doubted he could sleep – he didn’t really think he’d ever be able to fall asleep all on his own ever again – but didn’t want to risk waking either Connor or Oliver up with light from a movie or something.

The spot where Oliver and Connor had been was still warm on the couch. Not understanding why that made him feel lonelier than before, Asher criss-crossed his legs, tucking his feet under his calves.

He listened to the music and tried to relax, tried to clear his mind. But all he heard was the thud against his trunk and the bounce of his tires, his father’s last words and his mother’s biting disapproval and Asher resigned himself to another long night.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://ramblesandreblogs.tumblr.com)


End file.
